


I Took The One Less Traveled By

by RationsandSpades



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora likes cartography, Catra also has paw pads, Catra has the zoomies, Catra takes up gardening, F/F, Fluff, Mentioned trauma, Perfuma is a therapist, Personal Journey, Post-Ending, Self-Discovery, Self-Growth, Self-Indulgent, and art, it's so sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25833406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RationsandSpades/pseuds/RationsandSpades
Summary: Then, light shimmered, waves of warm yellows spread out through the ground, spreading further and further, leaving clumps of grass and wildlife in its wake.Catra remembered the look in Adora’s eyes as the fireflies flitted around her. Her eyes had sparkled, alight with life and pure…Joy.A fanfiction about a snippet of Catra's self-growth, recovery, and personal journey. She reflects on her history, the enemy being her own personal demons.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	I Took The One Less Traveled By

**Author's Note:**

> This was entirely self-indulgent. It's also my first fic. Excuse any mistakes or anything, I'm not really familiar with writing fanfictions yet. I headcanon a lot of things about Adora and Catra mental-health-wise. This takes place about two months after Heart Part 2. Hope you enjoy it!

It’s fine. She just had to convince herself that it was. That all of this was fine, that she could be forgiven, that the past was in the past now. The future is a mystery and the past is history. That made now the perfect present, right? That’s what Perfuma told her.

She ran a hand down the wall. Her nails were retracted, fingertips and paw pads brushing against the smooth surface. It brought her back to the day before she freed Glimmer from Prime’s ship.

_Prime._

Her hand drifted to her neck and she hissed, eyes shutting.

_Take a deep breath, repeat after me._

“I am safe,” Catra murmured under her breath, taking in deep, slow breaths as she walked. Her hand drifted away and she paused in place. She looked over at the wall.

A mural.

It depicted She-Ra, surrounded with radiant, geometrical shapes representing sunlight. Indistinct shapes taking the form of followers cheered. She-Ra looked elegant there. Her hair was flowing, sword raised in the air, and glimmering a brilliant white. The warm, hazy orange sunlight danced over the paint. They glistened, the gemstones embedded in it reflecting liquid fire onto the area around her.

Catra’s tail flicked. She remembered She-Ra last. She remembered how Adora had set her hand down on the last planet’s surface, devoid of life, empty, soulless. She remembered scoffing about it, wondering just what she could do by putting her hand in the dirt. Then, light shimmered, waves of warm yellows spread out through the ground, spreading further and further, leaving clumps of grass and wildlife in its wake.

Catra remembered the look in Adora’s eyes as the fireflies flitted around her. Her eyes had sparkled, alight with life and pure…

Joy.

Catra clutched at her arm and sighed. She looked away from the mural and kept walking, wandering the endless halls of Brightmoon. Ever since her awakening at midnight, she couldn’t exactly go back to sleep. Luckily, Adora hadn’t woken up.

_Maybe I should go check on her…_

She shook the thought away, rolling her shoulders back and sighing again.

_Not yet. I’ll check on her later._

For now? She was bored, tired, and everything felt tight.

She leaned back, stretching out her arms. Her hair was at that awkward length where it looked more like a mullet if a mullet looked like a really angry dark brown hedgehog whose spikes stuck out everywhere. Her shoulders popped and she sighed, stretching her shoulders and legs. She kicked and shook her legs a couple of times, trying to wake them up, make the antsy, unstable feeling go away. Ever since coming to Brightmoon, she noticed herself wanting to run around more. It used to happen at the Horde. Back when Adora was there.

_Before she abandoned me._

She took another deep breath and rolled her neck around, stretching it out, “She didn’t abandon me. She left because she had a stupid- a heroic destiny she had to follow. It makes her happy and that’s okay. It wasn’t a personal attack, it’s fine now. It’s fine; she’s here and she’s not leaving.” She sighed and stretched her arms again. Her eyes trailed to the She-Ra mural again.

The person, the hero, that destroyed everything, ruined her.

“Nothing was ruined. It’s okay,” she said as she exhaled, coming out of her stretch.

She still felt tight, pent-up, everything bunched up and ready for something.

Oh, she knew this.

She looked around. Her ears swiveled around, her eyes scanned the area. She sniffed at the air, feeling around and listening closely.

_Nobody’s here._

She hadn’t done it for years, not since Adora had left the Horde, not since she was happy again, safe, comfortable.

She tensed up, let out a breath, fell onto all fours, and lunged forward. Her arms outstretched, legs kicking out behind her. She could hear her nails scratch the marble floor, could hear her light footsteps echoing in the empty halls. The smile crossed her face without her realizing it as she sprinted around the castle on all fours. Her hair kept getting in her face, she could feel it whip around her. She turned the corner, right leg pushing off the ground and left leg staying put. She pivoted, body twisting, a kick, she bound forward. Each stretch of her arms, her legs, everything, made her feel so alive. Her laughter bubbled past her teeth, past the smile on her face. Her ears were perked, her blood pounding in her ears, breathing fast, heaving, everything was alive, awake, wonderful.

When she was done, she had made about three laps around the palace. In the end, she stood bipedal again, hands on her knees. Her breaths came out heavy. She looked around, eyes scanning the area again.

Sated.

The mural looked at her.

This time, though, it was a new one.

She blinked a couple of times, having not recognized this one. She stood up straighter, straining at the stinging in her side and the putty of her limbs. It felt good. The mural, however, was even better.

She craned her head back, taking in the whole thing. It was new, based on the glistening of the still-wet paint, the wall still looked new and freshly prepped for the paint, sanded and polished until it shimmered. On it, a mural depicting her and Adora, hand-in-hand, standing in front of a depiction of a rising sun. Flowers, wildlife, new and revived beauty, surrounded them. Adora had her right hand holding Catra’s and her other hand holding the Sword of Protection skyward. There was a glimmer of light on it. Catra’s right hand was raised in the air, a fist tight and proud, paralleling Adora’s raised arm.

Synchronized, harmony.

Balance.

The plants curled around their geometric forms, faceless yet somehow still so elegant and expressive. The plants were ones she remembered Perfuma talking about. When they were gardening together, a hobby Perfuma encouraged her to take up, along with art. Catra was stuck on what to plant in her new plot of land in Perfuma’s garden.

\------------------------------

“Well, what are some of your favorite colors? It’s a good idea, to combat negativity, to grow a favorite plant. Do you have a favorite flower? A favorite color?” Perfuma had asked.

“I…” Catra had said. She had looked at the plot of land, “There was never much of anything...alive...in the Horde. It was all machinery, metal.”

“No wonder you’re so negative! That sounds like such a horrible place!”

“Yeah, it was…” she paused. “It wasn’t all bad, though. I mean, Adora-”

_Oh._

“Oh! What are Adora’s favorite flowe-”

“I want to plant something blue,” Catra said. She faced Perfuma. “Do you- what flowers are blue? A light, powder blue, like uh…”

“Her eyes?”

Catra averted her eyes and nodded.

“Oh! I know just the perfect flowers!”

Perfuma ran off, ducking into her tent. Catra stood there, holding her arm. She looked at Perfuma’s garden. It was alive with vegetables. They had passed her orchard. It smelled sweet, comforting, like some sort of home she never knew she needed.

Footsteps.

Catra looked over to see Perfuma holding what looked like an actual book. She shoved it into her hands and Catra looked at it. “Uh-”

“4 and 18!” Perfuma piped.

“Four-”

“Go to pages 4 and 18,” she said. She was smiling. She watched as Catra slowly flipped the pages. Catra’s eyes were fixed to the numbers and were ignoring the pictures, no matter how pretty they seemed to be. Catra looked over page 4, eyes scanning each flower.

Brown.

“Uh-” Catra said, eyes scanning over the mostly brown and yellow looking flowers. She knew they were probably red, or orange, or yellow, or pink. She didn’t really know, they all looked the same. Different shades, yes, but mostly monochromatic.

“That one,” Perfuma said, slowly bringing a finger forward. She paused.

Catra flicked an ear.

Perfuma tapped on one of the pictures. “A hydrangea. Do you know what they stand for?” she asked.

Catra was too busy admiring the powder blue, almost the same shade as Adora’s eyes, flowers bunched together in globe-like shapes. The flowers were small, dainty, yet beautiful. The leaves were broad, proud, a deep shade of what she assumed was green.

“They stand for deep, heartfelt love, devotion, positivity, and loyalty,” Perfuma said.

“Oh,” Catra said. Her tail flicked and she looked over the flowers. She looked over the information, trying to make sense of just how big the flowers could get. “Will they fit in the garden?” she asked.

“Of course! Now, page 18! The fifth one down on the right page,” she said.

Catra complied and flipped to the page, looking at the number. On the page, she looked for the fifth one.

Forget-me-not.

“What do those stand for?” she asked. Yet again, they almost exactly matched Adora’s eyes in color.

“True love, loyalty, and devotion,” Perfuma said.

“That’s really sappy,” Catra said.

“You’ve spent your entire life refusing to accept and show love, you _need_ some positivity and love in your life, no matter how sappy.” 

Catra looked at the flower again. She looked over the stats. “Thanks, Perfuma. I owe you,” she said, a mutter.

“Thank _you_ for being brave enough to better yourself. That’s already an achievement in of itself. It’s something you need to celebrate. It’s hard to be vulnerable and to face your past,” Perfuma said.

“I guess,”

\------------------------------

Catra thought back to the garden the last time she had gone to tend to it. The flowers had grown up to her hip, healthy, strong, and just as bright and beautiful as they could be. The first week was hard, as were the next three at the time. She almost gave up, wanting to rip the flowers out of the ground when they died for the sixth time.

_“It’s okay. This happens, especially when you’re just starting. Be patient with yourself in the healing process,” Perfuma had said._

Catra took a deep breath, remembering the way Adora’s face had lit up when Catra had given her a bouquet of the flowers for her birthday. She was all blushes and averted eyes. She remembered almost shoving the flowers into her hands and running away. The feelings had been so intense, almost too much. Adora had hugged her, she had been crying, especially when Catra had muttered the flowers’ meanings under her breath as she was trying not to look at her.

Catra smiled at it. She shut her eyes and pivoted on her foot. She opened her eyes again, the morning light had shifted from a deep orange to a gentle shade of yellow. She started her walk towards Adora and her room. Sure, Catra had a room of her own, but the bed was way too squishy and the room was way too warm. Besides, it was nice to sleep at Adora’s feet sometimes. Most of the time, when Catra was feeling okay that day, she slept with her arms wrapped around her, purring softly until she fell asleep.

She opened the door, careful to twist the knob as slowly and quietly as she could. She turned around, shutting the door, facing the wooden surface.

“Good morning,” came Adora’s voice.

Catra jumped at that, tail bristling a bit.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, Adora,” Catra said. Adora was facing her, body twisted the slightest bit so she was facing away from her desk to look at Catra. Papers were scattered across its surface, each having her handwriting scribbled all over it. When she wasn’t trying to make her writing actually legible to other people’s pure, fancy eyes, her writing was an absolute disaster. “What’re you working on there?” she asked, walking over.

Adora perked up, a smile crossing her face, “I’m working on a map of Yill right now. It was the-”

“The first planet we restored magic to, I know,” Catra said. She set her chin on Adora’s shoulder, looking at the map. It was drawn in her usual style. It had that fancy, newly-fostered style that Sparkles had probably drilled into her head after the first couple of maps she tried to draw of the Kingdom of Snows. “What’s the writing about? You writing stories about your friends’ relationships again?”

“No! I don’t do that,”

“Yeah, sure,”

“Anyway. I was taking notes on the wildlife on the planet. Did you know it has sixteen different types of herbivores in just one section of the forest?”

“Sixteen? Really?” Catra asked. She glanced over at one of the papers strewn about. This one was settled askew on top of what looked like notes about the positions of the stars from Etheria. On it, she could see her partly legible notes talking about some sort of star she learned about from Entrapta. “You’re getting good at this,” she remarked, pressing her cheek against Adora’s neck.

“Thanks,” Adora said. She turned her face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “I love you,” she said.

Catra chuckled and rubbed her cheek against Adora’s, eliciting a small smile from her, “I love you too, dummy.”

“What are you doing up so early in the morning?” Adora asked.

Catra shrugged, “Going for a run around the castle.”

“Is that what all that noise was?”

“Wow, I’m _shocked_ , Adora, I can’t believe you can still hear. I thought you would’ve gone _deaf_ from screaming ‘For the honor of Grayskull!’ _all the time_ for three years straight,” she said.

“Okay- I didn’t scream it that loud,” she said, a frown on her face.

“Up for debate. Anyway, I was running around the castle,” she said.

“Did you eat anything yet?”

“Not yet, plan to later once everyone’s awake,” Catra said.

“Okay,” Adora said, seemingly not convinced, turning to her notes and maps again.

“Fine, I’ll go steal something from the kitchen. You want anything?” Catra said.

“Anything sweet you can get your hands on,”

“For breakfast?”

“Okay, maybe something like- I don’t know, bread? Do people eat bread in the morning?”

“They do now,” she held Adora’s head lightly with her right hand and brought it close to her, placing a kiss on her temple, “I’ll be right back. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Catra left the room feeling lighter, any signs of sleep had left her, an unwelcome ghost banished from her body. She sighed and made her way towards the kitchen, looking around the halls and taking in all the things she had missed in her zoom around the castle.

_Maybe this isn’t bad. Maybe this would be good, maybe this is okay._

This was fine.

Better than fine, actually.

This was great.

So, so great.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this! Do you have any suggestions? Any critiques? Anything I could improve? Do you just have something you've been dying to say about Catra and Adora? Write it down! I love reading comments, even if I've never posted here before.  
> I'll write another fic about Catra's art hobby too. I stand behind the headcanon that she's a leftie.  
> The title is named after a line from the poem Road Not Taken - Robert Frost
> 
> Be patient with yourself in this healing process, it'll be alright. This will pass, I promise.


End file.
